Sleepless Nights
by friendofthequn
Summary: What if Bella Swan had never gone to Forks? What if Nikki Jones, the personification of New York City, went in her place? Suddenly Edward finds that he isn't the only one hiding his true nature, and he's determined to find out her secret. Too bad for him she feels the same way. Rated M for language.
1. Preface

**PREFACE**

I'd given quite a bit of thought to how I'd kill my first vampire – the last few months had given me plenty of reason to – but sometimes, even your wildest imaginings just can't live up to reality.

I stared, barely able to breathe with excitement, across the dark clearing, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and he looked back at me, surprise and excitement evident in his expression.

He probably thought I'd come here to die, to nobly sacrifice myself to protect my boyfriend and older brother. If that was what he was thinking, pretty much every part of it was wrong. The man I'd told everyone was my older brother was really my father, I didn't quite feel ready to start calling that boy my boyfriend yet, and I had no intentions of dying.

I knew that if I'd never gone to Forks, I wouldn't be facing a real-life vampire right now. For perhaps the first time since leaving home, there was no part of me that regretted that decision. Life had given me lemons, but it turned out there were really hot people and villains in need of defeating inside those lemons, and that metaphor had gotten away from me, hadn't it.

The hunter and I smiled at each other in a friendly way as we sauntered forward to kill each other.

**A/N: Okay, I'll be honest, I don't like Twilight. I detest it, in fact. But I detest it so passionately that I couldn't fight the urge to do my own, hopefully better version. I'm probably going to bash the original quite a bit, so if you actually like it this probably isn't the fic for you. I've been working on this as a side-project for a while now, and thought I might as well post it. My focus is mostly on my Harry Potter stuff, and I'm planning on having each chapter encompass an actual chapter in the book, so updates will likely take a while. This chapter is pretty short, but the next one is already over 5000 words long, so hopefully that will make up for it. Don't know what else to say except I hope you enjoy it! **

**UPDATE: Re-uploaded because it wasn't showing up properly.**


	2. First Sight

**CHAPTER ONE: FIRST SIGHT**

I ended up taking a taxi to the airport. At first I considered taking the bus or the subway – I always loved being surrounded by all the weird people you could find there. People would have undoubtedly given me dirty looks for taking up seats with my large amount of luggage, but I'd never given a fuck about that kind of thing. No, the reason I didn't take those methods of transportation was because I knew that if I was surrounded by all of the weird, wonderful denizens of public transit, I wouldn't be able to bring myself to leave my home.

And by 'home', I didn't just mean my apartment. I meant the whole of the city. I am the personification of New York City, and my dad is America. Every country has its own personification. Yeah, pretty weird, I know. I was even weirder, though. I was born because Dad didn't use proper protection (though, given that it was in the 1800's, I suppose they didn't really have condoms). My mom was human. I was still mentally about eight years old when she died of old age. Nobody quite understands how I became New York City so long after its founding, or how a Nation and a human were able to have a child in the first place. There's only one person like me that I know of; Paris, daughter of France and my best friend. We kind of creeped out the full-blooded Nations, so everyone but our fathers usually ignored us.

Anyways, enough about what I am. From now on, as far as anyone I met knew, I was Nikki Jones, ordinary high-school student. Dad felt that I was forgetting how nice trees and shit could be, so he was making me move with him to some tiny town called Forks. He'd gotten a job with the local police force, and he'd be telling everyone he was my older brother. Even though I knew he was several centuries old, he only looked around nineteen, and I looked about seventeen, so it would be kind of weird if he claimed to be my father to normal humans.

I rolled down the taxi window. I needed to stop thinking about that kind of crap. I breathed in deeply the sweet, sweet smell of home. Most people found the smell of a busy New York street nauseating at best, but to me it was the best smell in the world. It would probably be a long time before I smelled it again, so I was trying to burn it into my nostrils. There were so many things I was going to miss… the smell, the way the skyline lit up like so many ground-based stars at night, my nice clothes (I'd had to leave about three quarters of my wardrobe behind), the feeling that I absolutely belonged here…

Before I knew it we had arrived at the airport. I grabbed all my luggage (onlookers were rather surprised a teenage girl was able to carry so many bags at once), paid the driver, and went into the building.

Dad was there to meet me at the Port Angeles airport. Almost as soon as I came into view he ran forward and gave me a hug. "There's my girl!" He lifted me off my feet and began spinning me around.

I was going to tell him to put me down, and probably call him something offensive, but I just couldn't bring myself to. Dad had a way of making me smile like nobody else could. I found a smile pulling at my lips, and I let it. "It's good to see you, too, jackass," I muttered. I was still pretty pissed at him for making me move to a backwater place like this.

He ignored the insult, as he always did, and put me down. I hadn't seen him since he left to sort out the move a month ago, but of course he looked the same as always. Same blond hair with a pretty major cowlick, same glasses covering sky-blue eyes, same ever-present smile. We grabbed my luggage (Dad insisted on carrying half of it) and went out to his car. It was raining. Apparently it rained a _lot _in Forks, so I suppose this was a prelude to things to come. The car was a police cruiser, and suddenly I was very glad I'd asked for my own car. I was willing to put up with a lot, but I drew the line at having to drive a police car everywhere.

We ended up having to strap some of my luggage to the roof, since clearly the trunks and back seats of these country cars weren't _nearly _big enough. Still, once all that was sorted out we strapped ourselves in and started driving. We talked about a lot of stuff. How my flight was (the asshole sitting next to me had been annoying, but a well-placed punch dealt with that easily), how horrible airplane food was, how Forks at the very least had a McDonalds (there was no way Dad would have willingly moved to any place not within a ten-mile radius of a Micky D's), and, finally…

"Oh, by the way, I found a totally good car for you that was super cheap," said Dad.

"'Good' and 'super cheap' don't mix," I replied.

Dad raised an eyebrow at me. "What were you expecting, a Porsche? Naw, all the cars around here are pretty old. I'm pretty sure the nicest car at your school will be a Volvo."

I snorted. "Seriously? Wow. So what kind of car did you get me?"

"Well, I guess technically it's a truck. A '63 Chevy." He saw my expression. "C'mon, New York, do you really think I'd give you a crappy truck? Billy Black over at La Push has taken good care of it. It looks pretty badass, I'm sure you'll like it."

"I do like badass shit. How cheap exactly is super cheap?"

"Free!" I stared at Dad, my expression begging for an explanation. "Well, free for you. I already bought it. Surprise!"

My brain did some very quick thinking. _If he already bought it, he must think I'll like it. Then again, he's kind of an idiot, so there's no guarantee. He said it looked badass, so that means it's tough, right? I think I need tough. I don't even know how long it's been since I've had to drive myself anywhere, I always just take the subway or the bus or something. And I don't have to pay anything for it. _That last thought pushed me over the edge. I wasn't entirely sure about how my genetics worked, but I'm pretty sure I managed to inherit the Netherlands' thriftiness. I gave Dad a hug. "Thanks, Dad! You're the best!"

"Uh, thanks, sweetie, but I'm tryin' to drive here, so…" I released him and saw that we'd nearly gone into the ditch. Whoops. If we'd been in home, we probably would have run over a few pedestrians. Ah, well, if they'd been watching where they were going, those imaginary pedestrians wouldn't have gotten run over.

Our meandering conversation continued until finally we arrived at our new home. It was kinda small, but since it would just be me and Dad, I supposed it would be all right. If Dad had his way, we'd probably spend all our time hiking or picnicking or whatever it was people did in nature. My attention quickly turned to the truck parked on the street in front. I saw what Dad had meant when he called it badass. I could totally imagine it at the scene of an accident, faded red paint unscratched, surrounded by the pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed.

As soon as the cruiser stopped moving I jumped out and ran over to my new truck. "Sweet! It _does _look badass!" I ran a hand along it. There were a few bumps and scratches, but I was okay with it. It's not like anyone else would have anything much better. Paris would probably have a heart attack if she was asked to ride in it, but she wasn't here.

Once I stopped admiring the truck I picked up about half my bags. If we'd been the normal human family we were claiming to be, it probably would have taken several trips to carry it all up to my room, but we weren't. I'd inherited at least a portion of Dad's strength, so we were able to carry it in one trip no sweat. I ended up with the smaller room, which I supposed was what I deserved after letting Dad have first dibs. Even after I had culled most of my favourite clothes, the tiny closet still groaned dangerously with the strain of all the shoes, shirts and bottoms I'd stuffed into it. It seemed to be glaring at me accusingly. I glared back. "No, I do _not _have too many clothes! What the fuck to do you know? You're just a piece of shitty furniture!" Realizing that I was arguing with a closet, I stormed out of my room.

There was only one small bathroom, which I'd have to share with Dad. I tried not to think about that, instead focusing on organizing my supply of makeup. Again, even though I'd only brought a fraction of my full store, there seemed to be a ridiculously small amount of space to store it in. In the end I wound up sticking a bottle of Dad's hair-gel in the shower to make room for my mascara. It wasn't as if he used it that much, anyway.

Speaking of Dad, he'd left me to unpack on my own, going down to the living room to take a call from his boss. Not his _real _boss, the President, but 'Alfred's' boss, Police Chief Swan. All I really knew about him was that he was a rather serious and taciturn man who took his job very seriously. Oh, and he had a daughter around my apparent age who lived with her mother in Arizona. Probably a touchy subject.

With all of my stuff having found a home, I went downstairs to the living room. Dad was still on the phone, so I went over to the TV to see what kind of video games he had here. It was a pretty good assortment. I grabbed _God of War_ and popped it into the Playstation. I'd already played it, but I hadn't found all the easter eggs and shit.

As I beat the crap out of the ancient Greek pantheon, my thoughts drifted to how my day tomorrow would go. I'd be starting at the local high school. Apparently there were only three hundred and fifty-seven (fifty-eight now that I was here) students in total. Holy shit, this town was small. It was the kind of town where everybody knew each other and probably had an amusing story to tell about each and every one of them. All the kids at school would have grown up together. I'd be the new girl from the big city, a strange, exotic creature they'd probably never encountered before. I'd be a breath of fresh air in a long-lost tomb. Everyone would probably have lots of questions about home… I wasn't sure whether I'd be happy to talk about it, or if it would just make me miss it more… I belonged there, among the skyscrapers…

"Uh, you paying attention there, sweetie? That hydra's kicking your ass." I jerked back to the present and saw that Dad was right. I hurriedly began button-mashing, concentrating on the game once again. Unfortunately, it seemed my lapse had been too long, and I was met with a resounding defeat. I swore at the TV and raised my arm to throw the controller. Dad grabbed it before I could, saying, "C'mon, don't take it out on the poor controller. Hate the game, not the device." He went over to the TV, turning off the Playstation. I was just about to complain when he turned on the Xbox and booted up Halo 2. He handed me one of the controllers and turned his attention to the game. I found myself smiling. Dad always seemed to know how to cheer me up.

You know how people call me the City That Never Sleeps? It's a very appropriate name. I've had to deal with chronic insomnia for as long as I can remember. No matter how many bedtime stories Dad told me, no matter how many lullabies Mom sang to me, I was lucky to be able to get three hours of sleep on a good night. When I was stressed or worried, like tonight, it was even worse. I didn't fall asleep at all until about 2:30, and when I woke up again it was only an hour later. After a few more brief naps faint sunlight began to shine through the blinds, and I gave up on trying to get a good night's sleep and went downstairs to get some coffee. Coffee is the love of my life. Before we met, I spent my days feeling grumpy and exhausted. Now that we were together, I always felt much more energetic, though still a bit grumpy, but I think that's just the way I am. Ain't nobody gonna change that.

Glancing out the windows on the way to the kitchen, I saw a whole lot of fog and not much else. A small town with a whole lot of fog… I was getting some bad Silent Hill vibes. Next thing you know I'll be getting a letter from my dead wife. Or some old detective will stalk me and I'll come home to find Dad murdered by some crazy lady with no eyebrows.

Speaking of Dad, he was already awake, eating his breakfast hamburgers. He waved at me as I entered the kitchen and said something that sounded like 'mrawmrummroom'. He really needed to stop talking with his mouth full. Then again, it wasn't like I was much better. I made a movement with my hand that could be construed as a greeting and made a beeline for the coffee-maker. Once I'd had a mug of the sweet, sweet wake-up-juice I was feeling much better.

Breakfast with Dad was, as always, both loud and messy. We tried to talk a lot, but we also tried to eat a lot, so we couldn't make out what each other was saying. I was pretty sure what he was trying to say was encouraging, and that was good enough for me. I was feeling in need of encouragement. I'd been awake for an hour, and I hadn't heard a single police siren. It was… disquieting.

Dad left first, still shoving hamburgers down his throat. I waved goodbye as he left the house. From the kitchen I could see him pull his hood up against the rain, get into his police car, and drive away, hopefully towards the police station. He'd never been all that great at maps and directions.

Once he was gone, things got quiet. Too quiet. Apart from my own chewing, the rain pattering on the roof, and the faint electric hum coming from the kitchen appliances, everything was silent. I didn't like it. It was too… devoid of noise, of life. It felt like I was the only living thing for miles. I glanced down at my watch. On the one hand, I didn't want to get to school too early and have to wait around feeling like an idiot, but on the other hand I really didn't like having to hang around here alone. Eventually I decided to get going. Even if I had to stand around like a moron, at least I wouldn't be alone.

I quickly got dressed in the first acceptable outfit I laid my hands on, did my makeup and hair, put on my rain jacket and boots, and headed out into the world. The cold, damp world. Even at a sprint, I was far too wet by the time I reached my new truck. Luckily, the inside was warm and dry. It looked like Billy Black had cleaned it up (I don't think Dad would have bothered), but it still smelled slightly of tobacco, peppermint and gasoline. I liked the smell. It reminded me a bit of home. Turning the key in the ignition, I was happy to find that the truck started up quickly. The engine was a bit louder than I was expecting, but I really couldn't give a fuck what other people thought of it.

The radio was pretty old, but started up just fine as well. I went through frequencies until I found a station with at least somewhat modern music. Yes, this was what I needed. Noise. Life. Over the years I'd somehow come to link the two together. Sadly, this town seemed to be lacking in both.

Finding the school wasn't too hard. It was just off the highway, like everything else in this place. I'd nearly driven past it, assuming that the small collection of buildings couldn't possibly be it, but then I'd seen the sign identifying it as Forks High School and just barely turned into it in time. Seriously, though, the thing looked more like a small group of houses had decided to have a costume party and all turned up dressed as 'bland, maroon-coloured building'. Not a single metal detector to be seen. If I'd known that, I would have brought my pocket-knife along. I'd have to remember that for tomorrow.

I parked in front of the first building, which was marked FRONT OFFICE. No one else was parked there, and I got the feeling it might be off limits, but I really didn't care. This wasn't home, so I needed directions if I didn't want to spend the whole day driving around trying to figure out where stuff was. I turned off the truck, pulled my hood back up, and pelted into the building as fast as I could. This fog/rain shit was going to completely ruin my hair.

The office, luckily, was nice and warm. There were plants in plastic pots everywhere, too. Apparently I wasn't the only one who felt uncomfortable with the lifelessness of this place. There wasn't really anything else noteworthy about it. It was a pretty standard office, if a bit small. The only person in sight was a large red-haired woman with glasses wearing a purple t-shirt that assuaged any fears I had about being underdressed. She looked up and said, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah." I walked up to the counter she was sitting behind and leaned against it. "I'm Nikki Jones, and I'm new here, so I'm gonna need my schedule and a map and all that sh-stuff." I didn't know how strict this school was about language, so I wasn't taking any chances.

She nodded, recognition flaring in her eyes. "Of course, Officer Jones' little sister. I've got your things right here." The woman, whose named turned out to be Shirley, was very helpful, going through all my classes with me, highlighting the best route to each on my map, and gave me a slip to have each teacher sign that I would have to bring back at the end of the day. Once she was finished I thanked her and she said, "I hope you'll like it here in Forks."

She'd been nice, so I smiled back at her and replied, "So do I, Shirley. See ya!"

I hurried back out to my truck and saw that other students were starting to arrive. I joined the line of cars and let them guide me towards the proper parking lot. Dad really hadn't been kidding. The nicest car there _was _a Volvo, and it stood out. To be fair, it was a rather shiny Volvo. I parked in the first available spot and checked my map again, trying to memorize it. Nothing screamed 'I'm the new girl, please bother me' more than walking around with a map held in front of your face. Once I was pretty sure I could make it to my first class, at least, I stuffed everything in my bag, slung it over my shoulder, pulled up my hood, and stepped outside.

I found my way to my first class easily enough. The classroom was small, but it's not like I was expecting anything else at this point. I hung my coat up on one of the hooks near the door and went to the teacher. He was a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. I handed him the slip and introduced myself. He gawked at me, which was kind of weird, and he pointed me to an empty seat the back of the classroom. I was a bit miffed that I'd lost the chance to make an introduction to the rest of the class, but c'est la vie, as Paris would say. At least my classmates had the decency to give me curious looks all class long. I was so busy smiling and nodding to each of them that I barely had time to go through the reading list Mr. Mason had given me. It was all stuff I'd read before, obviously. There wasn't much else to do back before the advent of TV. The teacher droned on about something, but I ignored it. I doubted it was anything I hadn't heard before.

When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound that made me want to take a sledgehammer to every speaker in the school, a gangly boy with black hair and an unfortunate case of acne leaned across the aisle to talk to me. "You're Nicole Jones, aren't you?" He looked like the kind of guy who got shoved into his locker and dumped in garbage in every high school movie ever.

"Yeah, but I prefer Nikki," I said, holding out a hand. "And you are?"

"Eric," he said, shaking my hand. "Where's your next class?'

I had to get my schedule out of my bag. "Uh… Government with Jefferson in building six."

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way," he said brightly.

I grinned. "Thanks, dude." I always preferred asking people for directions over looking at a map.

We got our jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. I tensed up at first when I saw some people trailing behind us, but then I realized they were probably just eavesdropping. I relaxed, and reminded myself that I wasn't in the city anymore. I didn't need to be constantly looking over my shoulder. That didn't feel nearly as reassuring as it should have.

"So, this is a lot different than New York, huh?" Eric asked.

"You have no idea," I said. "And does news really spread that fast around here?"

"Having such a talkative brother certainly helps."

I rolled my eyes. "Figures. Alfred didn't tell too many embarrassing stories, I hope."

"None whatsoever, apparently," said Eric. I curiously raised an eyebrow at him and he continued, "I haven't talked to him personally, but from what I've heard he's only said nice things about you." That hardly surprised me. Dad was nothing if not doting.

We kept talking as we made our way around the cafeteria and to the buildings by the gym. I was relieved when we arrived at building six without the subject of home coming up again. "Well, good luck," said Eric as I grabbed the door handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." He sounded hopeful. A bit too hopeful, considering we'd known each other for about an hour. _Wow, one class in and I already seem to have an admirer. That must be a new record._

"We'll see," I said, heading into the classroom.

The rest of the morning passed pretty much the same way. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr. Varner, was the only one who had me introduce myself to the class, which garnered some approval from me. It probably helped that I was pretty damn good at math. The secret was to just pencil in dollars signs in front of all the numbers and erase them before handing the assignment or test or whatever in. Money makes the world go round, as the Netherlands always says.

By class numero tres I started recognizing some of the faces popping up in my classes. There would always be someone brave enough to introduce themselves and strike up a conversation, usually about how I was liking Forks. I always steered the topic away to other things. I'd been in Forks for less than twenty-four hours, I couldn't really make an educated assessment of the place. All I could come up with so far was 'rainy' and 'quiet'. On the bright side, at least I never had to look at my map. People were practically tripping over themselves to guide me to my next class. _Well, even if it's rainy and miserable and lifeless, at least the people in Forks seem nice._

A short girl with curly hair named Jessica sat beside me in both Trig and Spanish and walked with me to the cafeteria for lunch. She proved to be a useful source of information on my teachers and classmates, and by the time we arrived at the cafeteria I felt I was a lot more knowledgeable about the school, and also that I'd probably just made a new friend. If my social life kept going at this rate, I'd be the most popular girl in school by the end of the day.

Any worries of having to eat lunch alone at an empty table like most new kids in movies vanished when Jessica sat me down at a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced me to. They seemed a bit standoffish at first, but I must have won them over through force of personality, because soon enough they were laughing and talking to me like I'd always been part of their little group. Eric waved at me from across the room and I waved back. I'd only been joking when I'd thought I was on the way to becoming the most popular girl in school, but now it seemed to actually be feasible. Well, how about that.

All those thoughts died away, however, when I first saw _them. _The five of them were sitting on the opposite side of the lunchroom, just staring off into space. Not talking, not eating (though they'd all gotten full trays of food), just all staring at different parts of the room. That alone probably would have caught my attention, but it wasn't what made my brain short-circuit. No, that was a symptom of how hot they were. Because holy fuck those were some of the hottest people I'd ever seen. The only person I could think of who was on par with them was Paris herself, the city that could wear a burlap sack and still pull it off magnificently.

There were three boys. One was huge, on par with the likes of Russia and Germany, with dark, curly hair. Another was even taller, but somewhat leaner while still being fairly muscular, with honey blond hair. The last was shorter and lankier, with messy bronze hair. The two girls were almost complete opposites, appearance-wise. One looked like a dark-haired pixie – short and skinny, with wild short hair and small features. The other was tall with long blond hair and the kind of figure many of my female citizens would kill for. And yet, for all of their differences in appearance, there were also definite similarities. They were all pale as snow, which made the dark circles under their dark eyes stand out. My eyes constantly shifted between the bronze-haired boy and the blond girl, trying to figure out which one was more attractive. Because seriously, just, holy fucking shit they were gorgeous.

I only looked away when the dark-haired girl got up with her tray and began walking towards the garbage. Man, she even _moved _gorgeously. Then she dumped her tray full of uneaten food into the garbage and I was snapped out of my stupor. Did she seriously just get food, sit staring at a wall for a few minutes, then just dump all that food into the garbage without so much as touching it?! The lower-class part of me wanted to get up, run over to her, and punch her in that pretty face. Sadly, she was out the back door before I could get to my feet.

"Who the fuck are those people?" I asked no one in particular. A mixture of anger at the sheer decadent waste they were showing and lingering awe at their hotness meant that I forgot to censor myself.

Jessica seemed a bit surprised at my language, but seemed to know who I was talking about, if the way her gaze immediately went to them was any indication. The youngest-looking boy (the bronze-haired one) looked up at her, as if sensing her gaze. He looked at her for a fraction of a second, and then his eyes met mine. It was only for a moment, but that didn't stop my heart from skipping a beat. Smoldering was the only word I could think of to describe those eyes. Then he looked away, rubbing his forehead and shaking his head as if trying to dislodge an unpleasant thought.

Jessica giggled, pulling me abruptly from my daze. "That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife." She said it all under her breath, for some reason, as if she didn't want anyone to hear her.

I turned my gaze back to the Edward or Emmett or Jasper or whichever one the hottest boy was. He was staring down at his tray, picking apart his bagel (but still not eating it, goddammit) and speaking quietly to the others, if his mouth moving was any indication. I was almost expecting them all to have the kinds of names young girls gave to their self-insert fanfic protagonists, like 'Sofiana' or 'Trixxette'. Their actual names were pretty normal, if a touch old-fashioned.

"Are any of them single?" I asked Jessica.

"Only Edward," she replied, looking meaningful at the hottest guy. "The others are… you know… _together_. And they _live _together." Her voice held all the shock and condemnation of the small town, which I thought was a little harsh. Then again, maybe I was just desensitized to that. Between Belarus stalking Russia, Korea groping China and Japan, 'big brother' France trying to bang anything with a hole in it, and the amount of times I felt like telling Dad and England to get a room, the whole incest taboo thing had lost a lot of oomph.

"Right… are they actually related? They don't really look it," I remarked.

"No, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his late twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales _are _brother and sister, twins – the blondes – and they're foster children."

I tried not to drool as my gaze fell on the smoking blond chick again. She must be Rosalie… God, she just _had _to have a name that had to do with roses, didn't she… stupid sexy not-single babe… "They look a bit old for foster children," I said absently.

"They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

"Wow, she must've been pretty young when she took them in," I said, tearing my eyes from Rosalie and taking a bite out of my hot dog. It had gotten cold. Had I really been staring at them that long? Sensing that Jessica expected me to finish my sentence, I continued, "I mean, if she's around the same age as her husband, she would've been in her early twenties at most. Most people that age need someone taking care of _them_. She sounds pretty cool if she was able to handle twins."

"I guess so," Jessica admitted reluctantly. I got the feeling she didn't like Dr. and Mrs. Cullen for some reason. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though," she added, and apparently she was expecting my opinion of her to drop because of this.

My eyes moved of their own accord back toward the Cullens. The fashionable part of my brain seemed to start up again, and noted that their clothes looked designer. In fact, they were exactly the kind of clothes I'd thought I would never see in a town like this. The kind of clothes I'd left behind at home thinking that even without them I'd probably be better dressed than anyone else. _All right, that decides it, as soon as I get back to the house I'm calling Tony and having him bring some of my _good _outfits._ "They aren't from around here, are they?" I said, more of a statement than a question.

"No," said Jessica. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

_Alaska? Wasn't expecting that. _Alaska aside, I was a bit put out that I wasn't as novel a commodity as I'd thought. I was still the center of attention, though, which was only fitting. Nobody, no matter how hot, was stealing my spotlight if I had any say in the matter. Despite my best efforts I found myself staring at them again, and the one I guessed was Edward looked up and met my gaze again. His eyes were still definitely smoldering, but this time there was a definite curious gleam to them. Again, our eye contact lasted for only a moment before he grimaced and started rubbing his forehead again.

"So, that one's Edward, right?" I asked, pointing to the hot guy.

"Yes." Jessica obviously noticed the intensity in my gaze. "He's gorgeous, I know, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." I groaned, and stared despondently down at my cold hot dog. _Damn it. God dangles a hot single guy in front of me, and he turns out to be gay. Fuck you, God. Why does it always have to be the really hot ones?_

I tried my best to regain my former cheer, but I noticed that I was a bit snippier towards my new friends than before I'd noticed the Cullens. And here I thought it would be a little while longer before my true, grumpy personality came to the surface. I'd gotten pretty good at hiding it over the years. Luckily it wasn't too long before I needed to head to my next class, Biology II. A girl named Angela was in it, too, so she served as my guide. She was rather quiet, so I spent the trip jabbering about the last time I'd been unpleasantly surprised to find a hot guy was gay.

When we entered, Angela hurried over to a table a bit too quickly for it to be polite. I was a bit offended, but I supposed not everyone loved the sound of my voice as much as I did. As I looked around, I realized that just about everyone already had a partner. _Great. I wonder who is the one person with an empty seat that I'll have to sit next to… _I just barely stopped myself from groaning when I saw it was Edward Cullen. _Of course. Of fucking course._

I tried my best to ignore him as I went to hand my slip and introduce myself to the teacher, but I couldn't quite ignore the way he stiffened as I walked past. _Huh… maybe not as gay as I thought? _ I tried not to let my hopes soar too much, lest they be shot down more spectacularly than necessary. For the third time we had some eye contact, and this time his eyes were smoldering with… anger? Why the hell was he angry at me? What did I do?! Was I making him question his sexuality? Or was that too much to hope for?

Whatever it was that had caused the glare, it led to me noticing something. His eyes weren't just dark brown- they were black, as if his pupils had dilated so much they had displaced the iris. Was he wearing contacts? Because I was pretty sure nobody naturally had those colour eyes.

Mr. Banner signed my slip and once again deprived me of the chance to make a big introduction. Really, what was it with these teachers? Did they _want _nobody to know my name? Grumbling silently to myself, I went over to Edward's table and sat down beside him. "Hey," I said, nodding to him in greeting. He was still staring at me like I was… okay, I had no idea, I'd never had anyone look at me like that. Was he angry? Scared? Constipated? I was starting to lean towards the latter.

After a few moments he averted his gaze, turning his head and angling his body away from me. What, did I smell? Was that it? I surreptitiously sniffed at my armpits. Nope, the deodorant was still working. I smelled fresh as a daisy. So what the hell was causing this kind of reaction? I decided to ignore him and try focusing on the lesson. Then I remembered that, oh yeah, I've been through high school so many times I've got the curriculum pretty much memorized. The teacher was going over cellular anatomy at the moment. I tried to listen, anyway, but my train of thought was immediately derailed and before I knew it I was thinking about hot dogs.

As the class dragged on, I took a peek at Edward every now and then. He seemed to relax slightly over time, but it struck me as less the relaxation of someone being relieved of something and more the relaxation of someone resigning themselves to something. He still kept his head turned away from me so that all I could see was his silken-looking hair. Several times I had to fight down the urge to reach out and pet it. It just looked so damn _soft._

He looked at me only once more. I just happened to be looking at him at the same time, so our eyes met _again_. This time I really tried to figure out what the hell he was feeling. After some rapid-fire thinking, I decided that his expression was suspicious. Suspicious, with an edge of confusion. I didn't have any time to discern any more from his face because the bell rang. I barely had time to blink before Edward was out the door.

I mulled over what the fuck just happened as I packed up my things. I was plucked from my thoughts when a male voice asked, "Aren't you Nicole Jones?"

I looked up to see a cute, baby-faced boy with spiky pale blond hair. He was smiling at me in a friendly way. It was a nice change from Edward's Weird Stare of Doom. I chuckled and said, "I swear, if I had a dollar for every time someone's asked me that today, I'd… well, probably not have all that much. Maybe if it was ten dollars… Oh, uh, sorry, kind of got off topic there. I prefer Nikki."

"All right, Nikki. I'm Mike."

"Nice to meet you, Mike."

"Do you need any help finding your next class?"

I'd looked at my schedule so many times that day I could remember that my next class was gym without scrabble around in my bag. "Not really. The gym's kind of hard to miss."

"Oh, that's my next class, too!" He seemed thrilled about it, though at a school this small it wasn't _that _big a surprise. We walked to the gym together, and it turned out he was just as much of a chatterer as I was. He'd lived in California until he was ten, so he offered me some advice on adjusting to Forks. It turned out he was in my English class, too. He was probably the nicest person I'd met today.

Then, as we were walking into the gym, he asked, "So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I've never seen him act like that."

"No, but it wouldn't have been the first time I did that to a biology partner," I joked. "Seriously, though, he _was _acting pretty damn weird, wasn't he?"

"Yeah," he said. "He almost looked like he was in pain or something."

"Well, you'd know better than I," I said. "All I did was say 'hey', and he started being all weird."

"He's a weird guy." Mike lingered by me instead of heading to the dressing room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

"It's too bad you weren't lucky, then." I smiled at him before heading into the girls' locker room. He was pretty cute. He would have had a good chance with me if the Cullens hadn't completely shattered my rating scale of hotness. And I'd made a promise to myself that I wouldn't date any of the local boys. I knew myself well enough to know it would end badly, and word spread fast in a small town like this.

The gym teacher, Coach Clapp (a name which begged for derogatory nicknames), found me a uniform but told me to sit out the class and just see what they were doing. I suppose it wasn't _totally_ unreasonable, but I was still pretty bummed out as I just sat in the bleachers and watched them play volleyball. I got bored within a few minutes and let my mind wander. I realized that I hadn't contacted any of my old friends since I'd arrived, so I took out my phone and sent a text to Paris.

_Arrived in Forks. Gym teacher is making me sit out first lesson. Soooo bored. __L_

Normally my texts weren't spelled nearly so well, but I had plenty of time to type the words in correctly. Paris replied less than two minutes later.

_Did you forget the time difference again, ma chère? You're lucky I was up working on a sketch._

Oh, right. I'd forgotten about the six hour- wait, I was in Washington, so it would be nine hours. I'd forgotten about the nine hour time difference. Good thing Paris often stayed up late working on her latest artistic venture.

_Whoops. Sorry about that. _

Paris replied quickly.

_It's all right. Are there any cute ones in Spoons, at least?_

I chuckled. _It's Forks, and yes, actually. Though maybe 'ridiculously hot' would be a better descriptor. ;)_

_ Ridiculously hot? Tell me more. And just so you know, if you say they're more beautiful than me I will have to hunt them down and kill them._

The scary thing was that I couldn't tell whether or not she was kidding. She usually wasn't the psychotic type, but she took a great deal of pride in her looks. _No need for that. I'd say they're equal to you at most. The weird behaviour and freakishly pale skin knock them down a few pegs._

_ Good. I like this dress, I'd hate for it to get stained. Freakishly pale skin and you still consider them on the same level as la magnifique moi? This I must hear._

I noticed Coach Crapp glaring at me and sighed. _Coach is glaring at me, I'd better go. I'll tell you all about them later, kay? __J_ I turned off my phone and put it in my bag in an ostentatious manner that ensured the coach noticed. He nodded in approval and turned back to the game.

After what felt like far too long, the final bell rang at last. I hurried off towards the office to hand in my slip and go back to the house (I refused to refer to it as home) and call Paris. Hopefully she'd still be awake. I didn't look forward to the string of French swearing that would inevitably assault my ears if I woke her up. At least the rain had stopped, though the wind was certainly doing its best to make up for it.

When I finally walked through the office doors I was tempted to turn on my heel and walk right back out. Edward Cullen's soft-looking, tousled bronze hair (and the rest of him) was standing at the desk in front of me, arguing with the receptionist about wanting to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time – any other time. I couldn't help but suspect it had something to do with me. I knew it was stupid, and there was probably some other reason he wanted to get out of that class. I mean, all I'd done was say 'hey', for fuck's sake! But I was nothing if not at least partially convinced the entire world revolved around me.

I barely had time to think all this before he whirled around and glared at me. _Yup, it's definitely me, _I thought in the face of his furious expression. _Maybe if I'd said 'hello' instead he'd like me? Does he dislike slang? _He turned back to the receptionist a moment later and said, "Never mind, then. I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." God, even his _voice _was hot. He turned on his heel without another look at me and disappeared out the door.

Rolling my eyes, I went up to the receptionist, who was still Shirley, and handed her my slip. "How did your first day go, dear?" she asked.

I glanced at the door Edward had disappeared through only a few moments before. "Could have gone better."

**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! I thought it was a fitting day to post this, since Twilight is a love story, even if it's not a very good one in my opinion. I hope you like the chapter, because I'm not sure I do. Reviews and favourites and follows and all those good things are appreciated!**


	3. Open Book

**CHAPTER TWO: OPEN BOOK**

The next day was one hundred percent better.

It wasn't raining (though the clouds were certainly dangling the threat in front of them), I actually knew some of the people, some of the boys were already throwing themselves head-first at me (okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration, but the way Mike followed me around like a puppy and the glares Eric threw at him were pretty fucking gratifying), I'd actually gotten a bit of sleep last night, a vein in Mr. Varner's head did this hilarious bulging thing when I got an answer the utter and complete opposite of correct, I got to demolish the other team in volleyball, dealing with people was made much easier by the weight of my knife in my pocket comforting me, and Edward Cullen wasn't there to be creepy at me.

Okay, maybe it would have been nice to have him around for the free eye candy, but Rosalie was still there to fuel my fantasies. And it would have been nice to be able to ask what the fuck was wrong with him. But we don't live in a perfect world, so I had to settle for kicking him in the balls only in my imagination.

It was a pretty good day, but, I reflected as I got back in my truck, it still felt like it hadn't really started, if that made any sense. It all felt a bit like I was dreaming, living someone else's life. Which I guess I was. This was a pretty good day for Nikki Jones, but New York City was clamouring for something… more. I snorted. _Listen to me, I sound like a fucking Disney princess. _That was enough navel gazing for one day, so I decided to spend the rest of the trip imagining what my inevitable confrontation with Edward Cullen would be like. Once I realized he probably wouldn't be shirtless, I decided to take some artistic liberties. It's my imagination, I do what I want.

The house was empty when I arrived, of course. I threw my bag carelessly aside and fell face-first on the couch. I had shit I needed to do – homework, chores, the ceremonial bitching about my day with Paris – but fuck it, I was kind of a teenager sort of, I was allowed to angst and procrastinate.

I have no idea how long I spent like that. Couch cushions don't come with clocks. Not yet, anyway. It could happen. However long it was, it ended when my cell phone started ringing. With a groan, I turned my head to see whether my backpack was within reach and, therefore, whether or not I was allowed to ignore it. My past self was a bitch, so it was pretty much right next to my head. I fumbled at the zipper and various pockets until finally I'd extracted the phone. I checked the caller ID. It was Paris. I quickly answered and grumbled, "Hey."

"Bonjour! 'Ow was your day?"

I groaned and slammed my head back in the cushion. Remembering she couldn't see me, I said, "You can't see it, but I'm lying face-down on the couch right now."

"Zat bad?"

"Yes, but also no. There wasn't anything really wrong with it, it was just... so _bland. _If this were a video game, this is the point where a dragon or aliens or something wipe the entire town off the map and I go off to kick ass and take names. And everything not nailed down, if it's an RPG."

"Well zen, it's a good zing you're already lying down, because I 'ave some 'orrible news: You do not live in a video game."

"Ha ha, you're so fucking hilarious," I growled. I took a deep breath and continued a bit more pleasantly, "So, yeah, if you can imagine one long, sustained _blah_, you've got a good idea how my day went. How was yours?" And since this was Paris we're talking about, that question caused enough chatter to fill pretty much my entire afternoon. She was still going at full blast talking about how Monaco nearly choked on a baguette when she was finally interrupted by her favourite TV show coming on.

I threw my phone vaguely in the direction of my backpack. I felt both better and worse than before I'd talked to Paris. Better because it was fun to live vicariously through her, worse because it reminded me just how dull my life had become. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a voice said, "Finally."

"Fuck!" I glared at Dad. "When did you get home?!"

"About an hour ago. Dinner's ready!"

It was amazing what food could do for my mood. I felt downright chipper by the time I'd finished my first hamburger. "So, how was work?" I asked as I grabbed another.

Dad shrugged. "Pretty normal. I had to go out to get a cat out of a tree, but it had already jumped down by the time I got there. How's school going so far? Made any friends?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Great! Who?"

I thoughtfully munched on my food. "Let me see… Mike, Jessica, Angela, Eric, Tyler, Lauren-"

Dad held up a hand to stop me. "Okay, maybe I should rephrase that: Is there anyone you _haven't _made friends with?"

I grabbed a third hamburger. "Well, there's the Cullens, but they aren't friends with anyone so it's not like it's personal or anything."

Dad nodded. "Yeah, I've heard about them. Haven't met any yet, but from the way Chief Swan talks about them you'd think they were the Second Coming."

"Well, the kids certainly look like it," I said dreamily. Dad raised an eyebrow, and I quickly backpedaled. "I-I mean, you know, they're all right to look at and everything, but there's no way I'd ever go out with such elitist a- snobs."

"Sure you wouldn't," said Dad, but he had the decency not to bring the Cullens up again for the rest of dinner. He was probably saving it for later, the asshole.

Absolutely nothing of any import happened over the course of the week, and I spent most of the weekend avoiding Dad and his attempts to get me to commune with nature and shit. It was actually a bit of a relief to get back to school. He hadn't stooped low enough to actually show up there. Yet, anyway. The school day started off just as uneventful as ever, so I had some pretty abysmal expectations for the day. Those expectations were shattered when I walked out of English with Mike and saw snow falling.

"SNOW! FUCK YEAH!" I promptly made a snowball and smashed it over Mike's head.

Mike stumbled and gave me a look like a kicked puppy. "What was that for?"

"Oh, come on, don't give me that look. It's snowing, people have snowball fights in snow!" I said.

Mike's expression became a bit more mischievous. "Yeah, they do. But they usually wait until lunch so they're not late for class."

I shot some finger guns at him with the appropriate sound effect. "Gotcha. See you at lunch!"

I'd be lying if I said I was taking notes in my next class and not drawing a battleplan on my map. Needless to say, by the time lunch finally came around, I came, I saw, I conquered. And I made a fuckton of witty one-liners while I did so.

I went into the cafeteria feeling the happiest I'd felt since I came to Forks, so of course it was the day Edward Cullen decided to come back to school and ruin it. There I was, feeling all happy and elated over the trill of the kill (not literally, though I might have given someone a concussion), and there he was, looking all happy and… and _happy_. It wasn't a good look for him. It made him look way too fucking normal and attainable. I spent the entirety of lunch glaring down at my food in moody silence. Well, except for when I made a vaguely affirmative grunt in response to Mike nervously asking that I not participate in the big snowball fight he was planning after school. In a rare show of universal sympathy, when I walked back outside the snow had turned to rain, destroying everyone else's hope and happiness along with mine.

I got to Biology before _him_, so I had some time to practice my disdainful ignoring skills. So when I finally did hear the chair beside me move I was all prepared to not look at him all class long. He ruined that, too, by saying, "Hello."

I looked at him, and _fuck_ his hair was looking fantastic. But not even fantastic hair could raise my opinion of him much. "Yeah, sorry, I don't really feel like talking if it takes you _a whole fucking week _to come up with a reply."

He winced slightly. "Sorry about that. I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. I'm-"

"Uh, no, you _did _have a chance," I interrupted. "You had, like, a bajillion chances to introduce yourself. You just chose to have an hour-long spaz attack instead."

He sighed. "How about we try to start over. I'm Edward Cullen. You must be Nikki Jones."

Dammit, I couldn't find anything really assholish in that sentence. "… Yeah," I admitted.

Mr. Banner saved the day by starting class then. We were doing a lab with microscopes and onion roots and had to organize the slides and blah blah blah blah mitosis. I only started paying attention again when he said, "Get started."

Edward gestured to the microscope. "Ladies first, partner?" he asked, smiling again and _dammit stop doing that._ The glare I gave him must have been pretty harsh, because his smile faded and he offered, "Or I could start, if you wish."

"Be my guest," I said. The less work I had to do, the better.

Edward barely even glanced at the slide before saying, "Prophase."

Suspicion that _nobody_ could figure it out that quickly, and the realization that I was a Strong, Independent Woman Who Don't Need No Man, made me say, "Let me check." I reached for the microscope, and our fingers brushed. I jerked my hand back. "Whoa, you've got cold fingers."

Edward shrugged. "I've been told that."

I put my eye to the lens, trying to forget about the romance novel crackle of electricity that brief touch had elicited. "Yeah, looks like prophase," I admitted. Edward wrote the answer down, and of _course _his penmanship was spectacular. I switched the slide for the next one and looked at it. "Anaphase." Edward looked himself, nodded, and wrote it down. We went through the rest of the slides the same way, taking turns to look first, then not trust the other's judgement and check for ourselves. Even with all the blatant distrust we were the first to finish. Which meant I was left with plenty of time to interact with Creepy McCreepface. I should have known academic achievement would end horribly.

I tried not to look at him, but he was like a black hole, dragging my gaze towards him. "Oh, hey, you got new contacts!" I said.

He frowned. "What?"

I pointed at his eyes. "Your eyes are, like, gold right now. They were black last time. And I mean _really_, only-possible-with-contacts-or-CGI black." He stared at me with a carefully blank expression for an awkwardly long amount of time before shrugging and looking away from me. I let out a displeased grunt and averted my eyes as well, trying not to picture how attractive he'd look in glasses.

Mr. Banner came by to see why we weren't working. He looked at our worksheet to check the answers. "So, Edward, didn't you think Nicole should get a chance with the microscope?" he asked.

It took every ounce of self-control I had not to pull my knife on him and yell 'the FUCK did you just say?!' Nonetheless, I did my best to convey the sentiment in my expression. I had actually put effort into school, and the praise was being handed to my male lab partner? This was the twenty-first century! Bullshit like this was supposed to have stopped! Edward had my back, though, even if the thought made me gag a bit. "Actually, she identified two of the five."

Mr. Banner looked at me, saw my expression and stammered, "Ah, I see, I-I'll just be… er…" He slunk away back to his desk and avoided eye contact with any of the students.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Edward asked. _Holy fuck, is Edward Cullen making small talk? Next thing you know pigs will be flying and England and France will start getting along_.

"Yeah," I said carefully. "I got one good snowball fight in, at least."

"Yes, I understand you were very… _enthusiastic _about it," said Edward delicately.

I snorted. "Enthusiastic? Please, I was an ice-packing killing machine. Steamrolled right over those pu- pansies," I quickly corrected myself, glancing at Mr. Banner. Teachers seemed very good at picking out one dirty word in a whole classroom full of noise.

"Quite the killer instinct you've got there," said Edward.

"That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me all day," I said.

"I don't know, nobody seems to have a bad word to say about you," said Edward. "You seem to be settling in very well."

I rolled my eyes. "Look, Edward, you're hot, but _nobody's _hot enough for me to start talking about my feelings in our first real conversation."

"So you're not settling in very well."

I glared at him. "Well, look who thinks he's Sigmund freaking Freud. If you start suggesting my problems all stem from my desire to bang my mom, I am going to have to stab you."

Edward was infuriatingly unfazed by the threat. "Am I allowed to ask why you came to Forks?"

He was really lucky he was so hot, and that I'd been feeling bummed that I'd spent all that time working on a backstory and nobody had asked me about it yet. "Sure," I said.

After a few moments of silence, Edward realized what I was doing and smiled. My traitorous heart fluttered in response. "Why did you come to Forks?" he asked.

I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "My brother got a job here, and I've still got a good year I can spend leeching off him before I officially become a lazy blight on the nation for doing so, so I came with him."

"And your parents?" Edward asked.

"Car crash," I said blankly. "Boring, I know. All the interesting ways to snuff it out there in the world, and they got the most generic of generic brands."

"… I'm sorry," said Edward.

"Unless you're the one who hit them, I don't want to hear it. And if you were, we're going to have to fight to the death now."

Edward chuckled. "No need for that. I've got a perfect driving record."

"You're one of those people who spend twenty minutes adjusting your rear-view mirrors and actually goes the speed limit, aren't you?" I groaned.

Edward chuckled again. "You'd be surprised, I think."

"So, why did _you _come to Forks?" I asked. He blinked, that unfairly gorgeous face twisting in surprise and confusion. "Hey, you asked me. Fair's fair."

"Life isn't fair," he said.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we have to go along with it. Life's a total bitch." Unfortunately, Mr. Banner chose that moment to call the class to order. Relief briefly flashed across Edward's face, but it was quickly replaced by the usual cool indifference. I was pleased that he wasn't completely unflappable, but on the other hand he wasn't exactly an open book. If I wanted to find out more about him, it would- wait, what was I thinking? Why would I want to find out more about such a weirdo? _Because he's hot,_ an errant thought pointed out. I tried to come up with a reasonable argument, but in the end relented. _Yeah, it's because he's hot. God, I'm shallow._

When the bell rang, Edward pulled a roadrunner again. I could have sworn some nearby papers were moved by the breeze. Mike filled his place almost as quickly, picking up my books for me. "That was awful," he groaned. "They all looked exactly the same. You're lucky you had Cullen for a partner."

I grabbed my books out of his arms. "Okay, seriously, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?! It's two thousand and… whatever!" I stormed out of the room and made my way to Gym on my own.

I'd calmed down a bit by the time class started, but my mind still wasn't in the game so when I did elbow Mike in the nose it was a legitimate accident. Seriously. My absent-mindedness lasted the whole class and afterwards, when I nearly ran over another car in the parking lot, though that may or may not have had something to do with the fact that I was pretty sure Edward Cullen had been looking right at me. He was laughing when I passed him, of course, so I flipped him off while steadfastly ignoring the way that laugh made butterflies spontaneously appear in my stomach.

**A/N: Oh, wow, I hadn't realized I haven't updated this for, like, a year. 0_0 I have a really bad grasp of time. Anyway, chapter two is finally here! Yay! And on Valentine's Day again! Don't have much else to say, except that writing tsunderes is surprisingly fun. Hopefully the next chapter will come out faster.**


	4. Phenomenon

**CHAPTER THREE: PHENOMENON**

I closed my Internet browser with a sigh. For some unfathomable reason my insomnia decided I was being far too well-rested and descended on me like an environment-obsessed college student armed with flyers last night. Paris was in the grips of her muse and called me something in French that sounded bad when I tried calling her, so I'd occupied myself with cat videos. I'd just noticed the time, and had been trapped in a dilemma; be late for school, or not see that related video with the kittens that looked so fucking _precious_. Then I remembered that Edward Cullen would be at school, and with him the possibility of getting my hands on him (one way or another), and decided to be responsible. I could have sworn I felt part of my soul shrivel up and die as I closed the window.

I yawned and looked out the window. For the first time since I'd arrived in Forks, the sunlight wasn't being filtered through a fog only the most expensive kinds of fog machines could make. Cautiously optimistic, I got up and went over to see if it might actually be a nice day. I was right to be cautious. There was no fog, sure, but there was certainly ice. Lots and lots of ice. I opened my closet and pulled out my tractioniest (if that was a word – it probably wasn't) boots and resigned myself to once again resembling a homeless person more than my usual stylish self. An upper-class homeless person, at least, the kind that had a whole dumpster to themselves in a nice part of town.

Dad was already gone, so I didn't need to make any kind of small-talk as I chugged down the coffee he'd been kind enough to leave behind and sloppily threw together some cereal. Really sloppily. _Eh, I'll clean it up when I get back, _I thought to myself as I slung my backpack over my shoulder and stepped out the door.

The drive to school was uneventful. This was a good thing, because considering the amount of black ice on the road, 'eventful' would translate to 'crashing into a tree and having the car explode'. I knew the latter probably wouldn't happen, but Hollywood had utterly destroyed my sense of realism. I felt quite proud of my nascent driving skills as I pulled into the school parking lot. Then I got out of the car and noticed that I'd unknowingly been helped by the chains someone had put on my tires. Wait, what did I mean 'someone', it had obviously been Dad. I'd never heard of any good Samaritans running around putting chains on people's tires. Not back home, anyway. Maybe people around here were really insistent on making sure everyone was properly prepared for bad road conditions.

A high-pitched screech broke me out of my thoughts. I turned and saw Edward staring at me with a horrified expression. Also, there was a van barreling towards me. The ridiculous gorgeousness of the former distracted me badly enough that by the time I fully registered the importance of the latter, I barely had time to say, "Fuck!" before the van collided.

Collided with what, however, I wasn't entirely sure. _Something _hit me, but from the wrong direction. I was knocked to the ground and my head made a cracking sound as it met the icy blacktop. My senses began swimming like a triathlete who'd suddenly gotten a leg cramp at the worst time. _Concussion. Shit. _While my brain repaired itself I tried to get some idea of what the fuck was going on around me, but it was pretty damn hard with, you know, a concussion and all. Something solid and cold was pinning me to the ground. _The van? Shit, how am I going to explain my non-crushed-flat-like-a-pancake-ness? _Then I turned my head and had two simultaneous thoughts. One was, _Okay, scratch that, not the van, the van's over there coming at me for round two. _The other was, unsurprisingly, _FUCK!_

A low oath made me realize someone was with me. Not just any someone, either. _Oh, for the love of god, why _him_? _Two freakishly pale hands shot in front of me and stopped the van in its tracks, leaving some dents that would make the owner very unhappy. Those same hands did something else fast enough that I wasn't able to make out what they were up to, but part of it involved moving my legs. The van stilled, and everything went quiet.

It only lasted about a second before the sounds of a large crowd freaking the fuck out filled the air. Edward Cullen's voice cut through the bedlam, frantically whispering into my ear, "Nikki? Are you all right?"

I gave my head a shake as my senses came back into full focus. _Hooray for healing factors. _"Yeah, I'm fine." With my newly repaired senses I realized that he was the solid and cold thing lying on top of me. I kept my mouth shut about that, though, because I swore I could feel his six-pack pressing against me even through several layers of clothing.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I think you hit your head pretty hard."

Okay, no amount of hidden musculature was going to let _that _slide. "Yeah, I did, because you tackled me to the ground like it's the fucking Super Bowl," I growled, shoving him away from me. "Thanks for the possible concussion, buddy."

He seemed surprised by my sudden hostility, but got over it quickly and settled as far away from me as possible while adopting a guarded expression. "Sorry. I panicked." The words were flat, which combined with the look on his face made me think he was thinking about something entirely different.

Edward was saved from further questioning by the crowd closing in on us, their cacophony making it impossible to hold a conversation. I glared at him as the van was moved away from us and a team of EMTs brought in some stretchers. Edward loftily refused his, which made me both angrier at him and more suspicious. Normally, I would have accepted the stretcher in order to avoid drawing unwanted attention to my durability, but if Edward was being conspicuous, dammit I was joining the club.

"I'm fine," I snapped at one of the medics, slapping her hand away.

"No, she's not," said Edward. "She hit her head really hard. She probably has a concussion."

The team redoubled their efforts to get me onto a stretcher. "Hey, the van hit him, too, why doesn't he get a stretcher?" I demanded.

"His father's a doctor, he'd know if he were hurt or not," said one of the EMTs.

"Bullshit!" Filled with determination to spread the humiliation around, I shoved the EMTs back, sprang to my feet, and dashed over to where Edward was standing. His smug, almost amused expression only steeled my resolve. _I am sending this fucker to the hospital. _In the few seconds it took to reach him, I ran through a dozen different ways to take him out of commission. In the end I settled on a good old German suplex. The look on his face was priceless, as was the sound of him hitting the ice. It was a lot less of a squishy sound than I was expecting. It wasn't so much the sound of rock against flesh as rock against other rock.

Once I was sure I wouldn't be suffering alone I was happy to let the paramedics lay me down on a stretcher and put a neck brace on me. I waved to the assembled student body as I was loaded into the back of an ambulance. A few waved back, but everyone looked worried or shocked or something negative. Before the doors could close, a mustachioed man in a police uniform walked into my field of vision. "You know, he could charge you with assault for that," he said gravely.

I shrugged as best I could in the brace. "Hey, I was just making sure he got the medical attention he needed." His expression remained unchanged. I clutched at my head. "Oh, no, I can't think clearly! Concussion! Brain no worky!"

He sighed and shook his head. "You really are Jones' sister." With that, he walked away and let the doors be closed.

During the drive to the hospital, two details that had slipped through the cracks of my immediate attention rose back up into my consciousness. Number one; there had been a dent in the car Edward and I had been trapped against that looked oddly Edward's-shoulders-shaped. Number two; his siblings hadn't looked at all worried about him. The big burly guy had been laughing, and the little pixie girl looked amused, but the other two had looked disapproving and furious. _Looks like I'm not the only one keeping secrets. _The thought made me far happier than I'd expected.

I paid pretty much no attention to what was happening around me as they brought me into the emergency room, my mind busy trying to figure out what Edward's secret was. _Steroids? Alien? Robot? Superhero? He's really pale, maybe he's a vampire. No, wait, I've seen him outside during the day, never mind. Werewolf? Golem? Wizard? _I was running out of supernatural creatures. _Ah, fuck it, I'll just call England and ask him._

I started paying attention to the world outside my skull just in time to see another student be deposited on the bed next to me. It was Tyler Crowley, from my Government class. At least, I was pretty sure it was him. It was a bit hard to tell with all the bandages. "Nikki, I'm so sorry!" he blurted out.

I was tempted to say _I'm only accepting that apology after I see what shape my truck is in_, but he was pretty beat up already so I took pity on the boy. "Whatever, Tyler, it's fine," I said. The nurses began unwinding his bandages, and I winced at the myriad of cuts adorning his head.

He ignored me. "I thought I was going to kill you! I was going too fast, and I hit the ice wrong…" He was cut off by one of the nurses dabbing at his face.

I smirked. "It'll take more than that to take me out. You would've been hurting more than me even if you hadn't missed."

"Right." He looked somewhat skeptical. "How did you get out of the way so fast? You were there, and then you were gone…"

"You can thank Sir Edward Cullen the Tackle-Happy Knight for that one," I growled, jerking my thumb to the corner where Edward was being examined by a blond doctor.

"Cullen? I didn't see him… wow, it was all so fast, I guess. Is he okay?"

I waved cheerfully at Edward. He responded with an exasperated glare. I turned back to Tyler. "Yep, totally normal."

Then they took me off to get some X-rays. Once they confirmed that my brain was intact I was wheeled back to the emergency room to wait for a doctor to stop by for a chat. I tried striking up a conversation with Tyler, but that went nowhere since he seemed to be stuck on repeat. There are only so many times you can hear the word 'sorry' before you want to punch the person in the face to repay whatever debt they felt they owed. I ended up just closing my eyes and ignoring him.

"Is she sleeping?" a musical voice asked. My eyes flew open. It was Edward, of course, standing at the foot of my bed and smirking. _Asshole fucking bastard, lording his mobility over us poor bedridden folk._

Tyler had no such anger and said, "Hey, Edward, I'm really sorry-"

Edward lifted a hand to silence him. "No blood, no foul," he said, flashing his brilliant teeth in something vaguely similar to a smile. He sat on the edge of Tyler's bed, facing me. "So, what's the verdict?"

"Do I look like I'm getting life-saving surgery or something right now?" I asked.

"No," said Edward.

"Then you can guess. They're still keeping me locked up in here for the moment, though. How come you get to walk around, anyway?"

"It's all about who you know," he answered. "But don't worry, I came to spring you."

A doctor walked around the corner, and for a moment I worried that I'd been transported onto the set of some medical drama. Real life doctors weren't supposed to be that handsome. Then I noticed the pale skin and dark circles beneath the eyes and realized this must be Edward's dad. But, wait, hold on, Edward was adopted, why would he look so much like his adopted father? Maybe the entire family just never got enough sleep and frequented whatever the opposite of a tanning salon was.

"So, Miss Jones, how are you feeling?" said Dr. Cullen in an appealing voice that only increased my suspicion that this hospital was a TV set of some sort.

"Annoyed," I growled. "Can I leave yet?"

"One last examination, I promise," said the doctor. I took a deep breath to stop myself from breaking something. Luckily, the examination consisted only of Dr. Cullen poking my head a bit and watching my reaction. Once he'd decided my brain was very much non-mushy, he stepped back and said, "Well, your brother is in the waiting room – you can go home with him now. But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all."

_Sweet, no school! I should get in car accidents more often! _I ripped off the neck brace and got out of bed. "Yeah, I'm not gonna do that. See ya, doc." I headed towards the door, but Edward was in my field of vision so _obviously_ I got a bit sidetracked. I moved over to him and whispered, "Hey, got a sec? I've got some questions."

"Didn't you want to leave?" he asked exasperatedly.

"It won't take long." He didn't reply, but he jerked his head in a vaguely affirmative manner. "Great. Mind if we do it somewhere a bit more private?" _Shit, that came out wrong. Or maybe it didn't. It's really amazing just how far into the gutter my mind can get when I'm standing close to a hot person._

Edward glared, but obligingly led me out into the hallway. As soon as we turned the corner he spun around and asked, "What do you want?"

"I want to know what you're hiding. And don't say 'nothing'," I added quickly as he opened his mouth to speak. "Everyone's hiding something. The only people who claim to be hiding nothing are the ones hiding something big." I took a step towards him. "I'm not a patient person, so I'll be blunt. There's something weird going on with you. I know it, you know I know it, I know you know I know it, we both know it. Question is, are you going to be a man and tell me you're an alien or a robot or a superhero or an alien robot superhero or whatever you are right now, or am I going to have to snoop around and figure it out for myself? Because I will. I have some very knowledgeable contacts. If you tell me now, I won't have to waste all that effort, you'll have some iota of my respect, everyone's happy. Your choice."

Edward's face was a painstakingly, beautifully crafted picture of pure blankness. I was very disappointed that he only gave my speech a moment of thought before saying, "I have no idea what you're talking about." He turned his back on me and took a few steps before stopping and adding, "And if I did, I would point out that you seem to know an awful lot about keeping secrets." And then he was gone.

"Asshole!" I yelled after him. I stomped a foot in frustration when there was no reply and turned to stalk over to the exit at the end of the hallway.

I froze after walking through the door. I hadn't been expecting it to lead straight to the waiting room (Jesus, everything in this town was small). I also hadn't been expecting quite so many students to be waiting around in there. _Any chance to miss school, I guess. _I got over it quickly and, burying my anger at Edward, said brightly, "Good news, everyone, no need for any funerals and sad school assemblies and conveniently forgetting all of my or Tyler or Edward's faults in the face of our tragic untimely deaths!"

My words were met with silence. A few kids looked like they wanted to laugh, but the sheer amount of peer pressure present in that oppressive quiet stifled their mirth. Dad, of course, was unaffected. He got up from his chair, walked over to me and put an arm around my shoulder. "Trust me, Nikki, me forgetting your faults is the last thing you need to worry about," he said just as brightly. I shot him a glare fairly high on the dirty scale as he turned to Mustache Cop from earlier and said, "I'm heading home, boss, see you later." With that he quickly guided me out the door and to a police cruiser waiting in the parking lot.

"Really? You're stealing police equipment now?" I asked.

"One of the perks of the job," he replied. "I'm sure my coworkers will be able to pull cats from trees without me."

"Why can't I-" A thought suddenly came to me and I felt very, very stupid for not thinking of it sooner. "Oh, fuck, what happened to my truck?!"

"Don't worry, it's in one piece," said Dad quickly. "It's getting fixed up as we speak."

I unclenched my fists and tried to think un-punchy thoughts. "All right, then." I opened the car door and got into the passenger seat.

Dad waited until I'd buckled my seatbelt before poking his head through the driver's-side window and adding, "And you're paying for repairs."

I slammed a fist into the dashboard with enough force to make the entire car rock. "Goddammit!"

The car ride back to the house was as full of meaningless chatter as usual, which left my brain mostly free to obsess over Edward Cullen. After a whole five minutes of hard thought, I decided against calling England right away. It felt like cheating. Victory would feel very hollow indeed if all it took to unravel Edward's secrets was a single phone call. I'd work it out on my own. Who needed centuries-old dark sorcerers when you had the Internet?

So, when we arrived home, I pretty much immediately ran into my room and started up my computer. As soon as I'd opened an Internet browser I typed in the word 'vampire'. It seemed like the safest bet. The Cullens made Casper the Friendly Ghost look tanned.

That was the first night I spent entirely consumed by thoughts of Edward Cullen. I got the feeling there'd be a lot more of those to come than I'd ever admit.

**A/N: I think this is where the plot will start to diverge from Twilight. That's pretty unavoidable when the main characters are practically polar opposites. I was planning on having this chapter out last Friday, but I had a really busy weekend and it didn't happen. But, hey, it's still way shorter than the last gap between updates, so yay. That's all I've got to say, see you next time.**


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